


The One with Everything

by thoughtlessblogger



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Humor, M/M, Pining, Sad Harry, Sad Louis, larry - Freeform, larry stylinson - Freeform, there's talks of weddings, time jumps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 11:32:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2308118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thoughtlessblogger/pseuds/thoughtlessblogger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were friends – all five of them. That's why he couldn't pursue a relationship with Harry. It'd break the whole dynamic if it didn't work out between the two of them.</p>
<p>Or </p>
<p>Harry is a journalist who wants to run a magazine one day, Liam serves coffee until he gets a job as a physical therapist, Zayn is an English professor, Niall doesn't have a job and bums money off of Louis, and nobody knows what Louis does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One with Everything

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of a Friends AU. I got a few of the ideas from that - one scene in particular. It's pretty easy to tell what I'm talking about it you've ever watched the show. If you've never watched the show that's okay, but you definitely should. It's worth it.  
> Also, I'm still trying to figure out the formatting on this site. If you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I'll try my best to fix them.  
> Comments and kudos are appreciated.  
> If want come talk to me on tumber at thoughtlessblogger.  
> Thank you for taking the time to read this!

“My usual,” Louis says, throwing the appropriate amount of money on the counter. “And don't cheat me on whipped cream this time,” he adds, while looking at his phone. He doesn't have any messages, which is not new at all, but he still likes to pretend that he has a social life outside of Niall and Zayn. 

“Um, I don't,” he hears the person on the other side of the counter say.

He looks up to see a buff guy with a buzz cut. He looks slightly out of place wearing the green apron that all the employees wear. He also looks confused, which Louis supposes is because he has no idea what Louis's usual order is since he seems to be new. Yet, Louis still recognizes the guy for some reason.

“I don't know what your usual is, sir,” the guy informs him.

“Ah, yes, well. I don't either?” The guy gives him a questioning look. “See, I've been coming here everyday for about two years. I always get the same thing. After a while, everyone working here knew what my order was and had it ready when I got to the counter. It seems I've forgotten what it is.”

“You have no idea?”

“It would appear not.”

“Right. Well we could try to figure out what it is?”

“Nah, mate. Just give me a regular coffee.”

“Sure thing.” 

Louis turns to walk away, but stops when he's hit with the realization of who this guy is.

“Wait,” he says, turning back to him. “You live across the hall from me.”

The man blinks. “Right. You're the one that lives with the loud Irishman.”

“That'd be me.” He tries not to feel embarrassed that that's how people know him. The friend of the loud, obnoxious Irishman. Louis adds in the obnoxious part because really that's what Niall is. “Louis. Niall's the Irish one. Sometimes plays here.”

“Oh yeah. I saw him the other day. Isn't that bad. I'm Liam, by the way.”

“Nice to properly meet you.” Louis smiles. “Uh, listen, just bring me my order. I'll be at my usual place.” He turns to walk away, but realizes Liam doesn't know where his usual spot it. Turning back around, he says “My usual spot is that sofa in the middle there.” He points to the burgundy sofa.

Liam nods and Louis takes that as his cue to walk away.

*

He's fucking late. He's late and Niall has almost definitely noticed. Although, Louis will argue that he's seen Niall play a thousand times before and that there was nothing special about this time. That won't stop Niall for calling him out on it. And what's worse is someone is in his spot. There are three people sat on _his_ sofa – not that it's actually his, but he _always_ sits there.

After putting his coat on the rack, he waves to Liam, hoping he understands that means to bring him his order, and leans against the beam in the center of the room so he can watch Niall. 

“Well, that does it for today,” Niall says into the microphone. “Thank you.”

Shit. He has several options. He can run out an hope Niall doesn't see him or he can stay here and take it like a man.

“You're late,” Niall says, as he walks over.

Too late for option one then. “Yes, Niall. I'm sorry. Got held up at work. I wouldn't expect you to understand what that's like.”

Niall's brow furrows. “No, I don't, but you were still late.”

“Niall, I've seen you play thousands of times,” he protests.

“I had a new one.”

Louis sighs. “You can play it for me when we get home,” he offers.

“Nope. You'll have to wait like everyone else.” Niall immediately breaks into a smile. “Only joking. 'Course I'll play it when we get home.”

Louis doesn't get a chance to say anything else before Zayn is flying through the door. 

“Lou, thank god you're here,” he gasps out.

“Calm down a bit,” Niall says. 

“Yeah, don't hurt yourself.”

Zayn glares at him.

“Listen, before you start talking, let me go take a piss first.”

Louis snorts. “Real elegant, Niall.”

“Hold me guitar.” He thrusts it at Louis and does some weird sort of skip to the bathroom.

“He's so weird.”

“You're both weird,” Zayn says beside him. He seems to have gained his breath back.

“So, what has you in such a fuss?”

Zayn shakes his head. “Got to wait for Niall.”

“You do realize I'm your best mate not Niall?”

Zayn nods. “I do, but you don't live with me anymore.”

“Niall never lived with you!”

“You moved out.”

“So I could be closer to my job,” he argues.

“Five minutes closer.”

“You know I like to get as much sleep as possible. And Niall needed me!”

“I did not,” Niall says, pushing his way in between them, while grabbing his guitar back. “That was something you made up so you wouldn't feel guilty about leaving Zayn.”

“I did not. Who pays the entirety of the rent?” When Niall doesn't answer Louis continues. “I pay the majority of the other bills, as well, so don't give me that shit.”

“Well, I don-”.

“Lads, can we move on?” Zayn asks.

Louis clears his throat and sends a glare at Niall before turning to Zayn. “Sorry, darling. What was it you wanted to tell us?”

“I got a job.”

“You already had one,” Niall points out.

“I got a better job. At London Metropolitan University. Teaching an English Literature course.”

“That's great.”

“That's the one you really wanted, yeah?” Louis inquires.

“Yup. I've been rushing around the city looking for you.”

Louis ducks his head. “Left my phone at home.”

“Listen, this is great news.” Niall claps them both on their shoulders. “I got a gig I wanted at a pub downtown.”

“Which one?” Zayn asks, while prying Niall's hand off him.

“Don't remember the name. Just know I wanted it.” When Louis and Zayn both raise an eyebrow Niall continues. “Look, I'm always pissed when I come out of these places. Can't ever remember the names. But this is great. Zayn got the job he wanted. I got the gig I wanted. Louis,” he turns to him with a questioning look. “What'd you get that you wanted?”

“Not a damn thing.”

“There's got to be something.”

“No there isn't.”

“Yes there is.”

“No there isn't.” When Niall gives him a disproving look, Louis continues. “I can't even get my coffee order.” And really, the wave to Liam was him ordering. Liam needs to know that if he wants to continue working here. “So, if you don't mind.” he starts walking backwards toward the door. “I'm going to go home, unless a very attractive guy that likes dick falls from the sky.”

As soon as he finishes the sentence, someone is knocking into him with enough force to send him hurtling toward the floor. He never hits it, though. Whoever this person is, wraps their arm around his waist and pulls him up. 

“Oh god,” he hears a deep voice say. “I'm so sorry.”

“No, it's fine. I should have been watching where I wa-”. Louis cuts himself off when he turns to see the stranger. He's tall and has green eyes and his curly hair is pulled back by a headscarf and he's absolutely breath taking. “Uh, it's no problem,” Louis manages, vaguely aware of this man's hand still on his waist.

“I'm very sorry.”

“No problem, Curly.” The man smiles and wow. “Just you know, be careful.”

Curly nods, removing his hand. “Uh, right. I've got to go over there.” He points toward the counter. “Sorry again.”

Louis turns to watch the guy walk away. He starts talking to Liam and it seems like they know each other. He might have to interrogate Liam about the fit guy later. He turns back to Niall and Zayn. Niall is smiling like a maniac and Zayn looks confused. 

“What happened?” he asks.

Louis gapes. “Did you not see any of that?”

“Mate, I quit listening to you after 'not a damn thing'.”

Niall, who's still smiling, turns to Zayn. “He said he wanted an attractive guy to fall from the sky. Then a guy literally ran into him.”

Zayn perks up a bit. “Who?” he asks, looking around the room.

“That guy over there.” Niall points to the counter where Curly is still speaking to Liam. “The tall one.”

At that moment the guy turns slightly and Zayn gasps. Louis turns to him with a questioning look. 

“I don't believe it.”

“Believe what?” Niall asks.

“That can't be.”

“Can't be what?”

“Is that?” With each question Zayn has taken a step closer to the man. When he's an arms length away he mutters “Harry?”

The man, turns and looks at Zayn with narrowed eyes. Louis watches some sort of realization fall across his face. “Zayn?” he asks, eyes widening.

“Holy shit,” Zayn says before throwing himself at Harry, wrapping him in a hug. Louis is taken aback by this sudden burst of human emotion and interaction Zayn is willingly participating in. It's usually a major fight to get him to even shake hands.

The two men pull apart when Louis clears his throat. Zayn doesn't spare him or Niall a glance, though.

“How long's it been?” Zayn asks.

“Five years?” Harry responds with.

“I didn't know you'd moved to London.”

“Few months back.”

Niall elbows Louis in the side then moves to stand next to Zayn. He puts his am over Zayn's shoulder.

“Zayn, you going to introduce us to your new friend?”

“Old friend, technically,” Zayn says, trying to fight off Niall's arm. “These are my mates, Louis and Niall.”

The man's brow furrows. “Louis? Louis Tomlinson?”

“Uh, yeah?” 

“I'm Harry Styles.”

Holy shit. Louis's met Harry before. Granted he was drunk and it was about five years ago and Harry looks a hell of a lot different. More grown up and sex god-like.

“Oh god. I didn't recognize you,” he responds.

“How do you know Louis?” Liam asks. 

Louis had forgotten Liam was here and why does he care how they know each other?

“I grew up with Zayn,” Harry answers.

“I met Zayn in uni,” Louis adds.

“Lou, went home with me one weekend and drug me to a party,” Zayn says. “Harry was there and I introduced them.”

“Thank you, Zayn. Not like we couldn't have done that ourselves,” Louis says.

“You two would've taken three years,” Zayn responds, dryly.

Liam chuckles. “This is so weird. You and Zayn knew each other,” he directs at Harry. “Then we live across the hall from Niall and Louis.”

Louis does not miss the 'we' in Liam's sentence and he definitely does not miss the way Harry whips around to stare at him.

“We do?”

“Yes.” Liam and Louis say at the same time. 

“We only found out three days ago,” Liam continues.

Harry nods in understanding.

“So, this is a bit freaky,” Niall says, arm still draped across Zayn. 

“How so, Niall?” Louis asks.

“Liam and I met a few years back.”

“You did?”

Liam hums. “It was at the airport. Niall had just landed and I was trying to find my parents. I was at the wrong gate, by the way, but Niall was nice enough to help me.”

“Isn't that sweet.” Turning to Harry, Louis asks, “When did you move in? I feel like we'd have run into each other by now.”

“It's like we were all meant to meet,” Niall interrupts. 

“Yeah, it's weird,” Louis replies, shortly. 

“We've been living there for six months tomorrow,” Harry answers.

Niall interrupts Louis again. “Well, what do you say we all go for a pint?”

*

They're in Harry and Liam's flat and three months later, Louis still can't figure out why theirs is nicer than the one Louis and Niall live in – it's in the same building, literally across that hall. Tonight they're in Harry and Liam's flat because they had no other place to go. Two Friday's earlier they had gone to a pub and Zayn had run into a couple of his students. Since then he's refused to go out anywhere they might be because “It's weird and it makes me feel old”. For the past two weeks they've elected to staying in and ordering pizza and complaining about their lives.

“I'm just wondering,” Liam starts from his spot on the floor, “if I quit now, how long will my saved money last me?”

“How much you got saved?” Niall questions with a mouth full of pizza.

“Not fucking enough,” Harry answers. Liam turns to look up at him and blinks. “Well, I know,” Harry explains. “You just don't Liam.”

“He's got a hell of a lot more than me,” Niall says.

“Everyone's got more than you,” Louis points out.

“Pretty sure you have more than all of us,” Niall retorts.

“Was that meant as an insult?”

Niall shrugs.

“I know you make more than me,” Zayn adds.

“Definitely make more me than me,” Harry states. If it wasn't for that fact Louis knew Harry was a low level journalist he wouldn't believe that statement. He's seen Harry's clothes. He knows how expensive they are.

“Again I ask: is that an insult?”

Niall shrugs again. “I'm just saying, you shouldn't complain.”

Louis gapes. He knows money is a hard subject to discuss with friends, but Liam brought it up. “I wasn't complaining. And just because I make more than you doesn't mean I can't complain. At least about my job being shit.”

“What do you even do, Louis?” Niall inquires.

Louis scoffs. “Honestly, you've lived with me for how long?”

Zayn sits forward in his armchair. “I don't really know what you do either.”

“Does anyone know what I do?”

“Something with numbers?” Liam asks.

“Do you do something with computers?” Niall suggests.

“Fuck you all,” Louis mutters. 

“Seriously, though,” Zayn says. “What do you have to complain about?”

“My boss. Requires a lot of sexual favors.” He's joking, but he feels Harry tense up next to him. “Anyway, Haz,” he says, shifting his body to face him. His face, unfortunately, does not give anything away. “What have you got to complain about?”

Harry hums. “Don't really have much to complain about. I got a job. I can make a living.”

Liam rolls his eyes. “Harry, mate. You can complain sometimes.”

“Unlike Louis. Wish he'd complain less,” says Niall.

Louis picks up one of the pillows and chucks it at him. Niall artfully ducks it and sails into the kitchen. Niall in retaliation picks up an empty beer can and throws it at Louis. His aim is off and it hits Harry's head. And before Louis processes it, they're all throwing things at each other. And Louis realizes that it's a little weird that they've only been friends – the five of them, at least – for a couple of months, but it works.

*

**Two Years Later**

“Alright,” Niall starts, head in Liam and Harry's fridge. “They've got water, orange juice, and what looks like cider.”

Louis looks over to see Niall holding a glass. He knows exactly what that is. “Taste it,” he says.

Niall does and puts it back in the fridge. “Yeah. It's fat,” he says, shutting the fridge. “I drank fat.”

“Yeah, I did that about ten minutes ago,” he says, turning back to his phone.

He hears the door open and a “Hey.”

He looks up to see a tuxed-up Zayn shutting the door. “Hey Mr. Tux.”

“Why aren't you guys dressed?” he demands, after turning from the door.

“We have half an hour,” Niall informs him, while sitting on the sofa.

“No, four minutes ago,” he starts, walking further into the flat, “you had a half hour. We have to be out the door at twenty to eight.”

“Relax, Zayn,” Niall says, causing Zayn to stop walking. “We'll be ready. It only takes us two minutes to get dressed.”

“You know, I'd feel a whole lot better if you got dressed now.”

“Okay,” him and Niall say at the same time, obviously not going to do that. 

Niall gets up and walks back to the fridge, taking out the glass of fat. “Hey Zayn, want some cider?” he asks, with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“No.”

The door to the bathroom opens and Harry steps out in nothing but his pants. “Hey,” he says, cheerily. “Oh look at you all dressed up,” he coos to Zayn.

“Let's see,” Zayn starts, surveying him, “Hairs done and pants are on.”

“Yeah, I just have to get dressed.”

“Yay,” Zayn says, sounding as enthusiastic as Zayn can. “And that just takes about six or seven minutes?”

“Yeah,” Harry nods. “Once I figure out what I'm wearing,” he adds, before walking into his room and closing the door.

Louis knows Harry is going to take much longer than what Zayn thinks. Watching Zayn slowly lose it will be fun.

Zayn turns back to face Niall. 

“Glass of fat?” Niall offers the glass to Zayn, who just glares. Louis gets up to go to the toilet.

*

“Alright, I took the quiz,” he says, walking out of the bathroom, holding some woman's magazine Harry has a subscription to. “And it turns out I do put career before men.” He gives an award winning smile and tosses the magazine on the sofa. Walking to the armchair he was sitting in before his trip to the toilet, he sees Niall. “Get up,” he orders, motioning with his hands.

“What?” Niall asks, blankly.

“You're in my seat,” he answers.

Brows furrowing, Niall asks, “How is this your seat?”

He turns to look at Zayn who's standing behind the sofa and giving him a blank look, and then turns back to Niall. “'Cause I was sitting there,” he explains, putting his hands on his hips.

“But then you left.”

“Well, it's not like I went to Spain,” he argues. “I went to the toilet,” he adds, motioning. “You knew I was coming back.”

“What's the big deal? Sit somewhere else.”

“The big deal is,” he starts, “I was sitting there last.” He motions to the chair. “So, it's my seat,” he concludes, putting his hands back on his hips.

“Actually, the last place you were sitting was in there.” Niall points to the bathroom. “So...” he trails.

Zayn comes over to stand between them. “Lads, you know what,” he says. “It doesn't matter. Because you both have to go get dressed before the big vein in my head pops.”

“Alright, Zayn, I just have to do one thing really quickly. It's not a big deal,” he explains. Then turning back to Niall he shouts, “Get up!”

“Hi,” he hears Liam says. He turns around and sees Liam – who's wearing jeans and a plaid shirt – shutting the door. When he turns around, he says, “You like nice, Zayn. Why?”

“Change,” Zayn says, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Hang on,” Liam replies.

“It starts at eight,” Zayn reminds everyone. “We can't be late.”

“We'll be-,” Louis starts, but is cut off by Zayn.

“Our table is in front. My boss will be there. Everyone will see if we're late.”

“Has someone been drinking my fat?” Liam asks, ignoring Zayn.

Louis and Niall exchange a look, but before anyone can answer Harry is coming out holding a hand full of clothes.

“Does this look appropriate for tonight?” He asks, holding up black jeans and some weird floral shirt Louis has never seen before. Harry looks down at the outfit he's holding and confusion floods his face. “Oh, you know what? This is not what I want to wear.” He walks back in his room and shuts the door.

“Well, Niall,” Louis says, clapping his hands together. “I wrote a little song today.” He pauses. “It's called 'Get Up'.”

Niall shrugs. “I wish there was something I could do to help you.”

Louis keeps repeating “get up” until Niall yells “Alright. You can have the chair.”

Louis takes a step back. He didn't think that would work. “Really?”

“Oh.” Niall's brow furrows. “Would you look at that?” He brings his hand up to show crossed fingers.

Louis takes a step forward, glaring. “Get. The. Fuck. Up. Horan.”

“Would you all please get dressed,” Zayn groans from the kitchen table.

Ignoring Zayn, Louis turns back to Niall. “Alright. Fine. You know what. Just sit right there. I just hope you don't mind my hand right here.” He lunges toward Niall and holds his outstretched hand right in front of his face. Niall jumps and then gives him a displeased look. “Not touching. You can't do anything.”

He knows he's being childish, but damn Niall for thinking he could steal someone's seat and get away with it.

“Right,” Liam says, walking past them. “I'm going to get dressed.”

“Thank god,” he hears Zayn sigh.

“Do these match?” Harry asks, running out with more clothes.

“Yes,” Zayn immediately answers. 

Niall answers with “No” and he hears Zayn groan again.

“Okay.” Harry nods and walks back into his room.

“Why can't he just wear a tux?” Zayn mumbles.

“Fine. We'll both sit in the chair.” And Louis does. He sits right on Niall's lap. It's uncomfortable, but he will win this battle. “I'm so comfortable,” he says.

“Me too,” agrees Niall. “I think I might be a little too comfortable,” he adds, wiggling around under him.

“Alright.” Louis jumps up.

“We have nineteen minutes,” Zayn informs them, standing up. “Louis I want you to go and change and then when you get back Niall will leave to change and you can have the chair.”

Louis nods, sighing. They promised Zayn they would go and Louis never breaks a promise. “Alright.” Louis starts walking to the door. “But when I get back the chair is mine.”

When he walks back into the flat, Liam and Harry are dressed. Harry miraculously is in a tux and looks fantastic. And Niall is gone. The chair is vacated. He runs as fast as he can and leaps into the chair, smiling like an idiot. Harry raises a questioning eyebrow.

“I won,” is all he offers.

*

**Three months later**

“I just don't understand why they don't understand that Oscar Wilde was a genius.”

“Just because Oscar Wilde was a genius doesn't mean everyone has to like him, Zayn,” Harry says. He takes a drink from his latte and adds, “Besides, you didn't specify that the paper had to be about Oscar Wilde.”

“Uh-huh,” Louis agrees. “You said it could be about any author they wanted. Obviously, none of them wanted to do Oscar Wilde.”

Zayn looks up at them from the stack of papers he's been grading since before him and Harry had shown up. “Why am I friends with you two?”

“You love us,” they both say at the same time, which causes them to start laughing.

“I'm trying to grade papers. Could you keep it down?”

Harry kicks Zayn from the armchair. “Maybe you shouldn't grade in a public place.”

“Fuck off. Perrie's got friends over. It's quieter here.”

“Then don't complain.”

“You know,” Louis starts, “Niall is working. You could go over to the flat and grade there.”

“No.”

“Why not? It's literally across the street.”

Zayn looks over at him. “Because as soon as I get comfortable the two of you,” he waves the hand holding the pen between him and Harry, “will come back and start fucking around.”

Louis succeeds in not choking over Zayn's choice of words. “We would not be 'fucking around'.”

“We could go to my place,” Harry offers.

“Your place is across the hall from his. You fucking around over there would still bother me.”

“Don't you have an office?” Louis asks in an attempt to get the subject away from him and Harry 'fucking around'.

Zayn sighs. “I do, but it's being fumigated.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah, so could you two please contain yourselves?”

“You should really lighten up, mate,” Louis says. “You're getting married in three days for god's sake.”

“Exactly,” Zayn spits at him. “I need to get these graded now.”

Harry laughs, but doesn't say anything. And really there was nothing funny about any of this. Unless he knows that Louis's skin is crawling at Zayn's words, but that's ridiculous. Harry doesn't know. There's no way he could.

“Hey, lads,” Niall says, while throwing himself on the empty cushion next to Zayn. “I'm beat.”

“Niall, you haven't been working,” Harry points out. Not that he needed to. Niall never works. He only has the job because after working here for five months, Liam finally got a job as a physical therapist, so a spot had been opened up that the owner could never fill. Louis pushed Niall into getting the job six months back because he's tired of paying all the bills by himself. Niall had reluctantly agreed and gotten the job, even though he does nothing but spill coffee, get orders wrong and flirt with pretty women. The only reason he hasn't been fired yet is because the manger has a giant crush on him. That and he's Niall and nobody could fire the bastard. 

Niall has the decency to not look offended. “I've had a long day, Haz.”

“From what?” Louis asks, incredulously. “Did all the women turn you down?”

Niall reaches around Zayn and smacks Louis across the head. Unfortunately, Niall jostled Zayn a bit and Zayn, who was marking a paper, made a huge red line through the paper. 

“That's it!” he exclaims, standing up. “I'm going to the library.”

Just then Liam comes rushing in, looking frantic. “Don't go anywhere, Zayn.”

Zayn sighs and drops back down to the sofa. Liam runs to the armchair next to Louis. 

“I have a bit of a problem.”

“Don't we all,” Zayn mutters.

“I think I might have gotten someone pregnant,” Liam rushes out, stunning everyone, but Harry.

He sits forward in his chair. “Which someone?”

“Britney.”

“What do you mean think?” Niall asks with a mouthful of muffin.

Liam sends a disgusted look Niall's way. “Honestly, you couldn't wait until you swallowed?”

“Just asking a question.”

“I said think because she's late.”

Niall raises an eyebrow. “Late?”

“He means her period, Niall,” Louis answers.

“I know that, Louis. I just don't see why that's a big deal. I mean, there could be a number of reasons why she's late, right?”

Zayn nods. “Yeah. Definitely. Perrie has irregular periods.”

Liam shakes his head. “Nope. Britney says that not it. She's never late apparently.”

“Could be a false alarm, though,” Harry points out, sitting back in his chair.

“Well, she has an appointment with her doctor the day after the wedding.”

“So until then you shouldn't worry about it,” Harry says.

“Yeah, I guess you're right.”

“Of course I am, Liam.”

After a second of silence Liam says “I'm going to call mum,” and gets up and walks out.

Harry sighs. “He shouldn't panic about this.”

“It's Liam. He's going to panic,” Niall says, standing up. “Well, lads, I'm off.”

“Where you going?” Louis asks.

“Got a date. Don't wait up for me.” With that Niall turns and is out of sight.

Louis blinks. “He didn't give me a chance to make a joke about him not getting laid,” he pouts.

“You could make it anyway,” Harry suggests.

“The moment's gone.”

“Well, I think I'm heading off too.” Louis whips his head around to look at Zayn, who's packing his stuff up. 

“To where?” he asks, hoping he doesn't sound too concerned. 

It's not that he doesn't want to be alone with Harry. He just doesn't want to be alone with Harry. And he knows that Harry can tell something is up. He couldn't be more obvious if he tried. Louis isn't exactly the master at subtlety. But ever since, two weeks ago when they were helping Zayn learn how to dance and Harry pulled Louis to him so they could demonstrate, Louis cannot be around Harry alone. Two weeks ago, Louis realized that he was in love with Harry. Which is definitely something that Harry cannot know and something that Louis cannot do anything about.

They've known each other for two years and they're best mates. Louis cannot fuck that up. He'd rather be friends with Harry than not be anything at all. And in the past two weeks Louis has went over every possibility in his head of how this situation could play out. Only one of them ends happily. Basically, Louis doesn't know how to handle this situation and he's pretty sure he's handling it wrong.

“So, what do you want to do tonight?” Harry's voice breaks him out of his thoughts.

Louis looks up to see that Zayn is gone now and Harry is looking at him expectantly. “Um...”.

“I was thinking we could just have a movie night,” Harry suggests, looking hopeful.

Louis is definitely handling this wrong. It was nothing for just the two of them to hang out together, but Louis has been avoiding it for two weeks. Of course, Harry was going to notice. 

“Sorry, Curly. Promised my boss I'd email him the information for a thing he needs tomorrow.” What the fuck is he doing? He tries not to notice how Harry's face falls.

“Oh, okay. Sure.”

“I really am sorry.” When Harry offers a pathetic looking smile, Louis adds “Rain check?”

His smile looks more genuine now. “Of course.”

*

“How much are things going to change?”

Zayn takes a drink of his beer before answering. “Not much, I reckon.” Louis hums noncommittal. “I mean, I already live with her. The only difference is there's going to be a piece of paper saying I'm married to her.”

“Yeah, see, you say that now,” Louis starts, “but I know that you're going to be around a lot less. You say nothing's going to change, but it will. I know things, Zayn.”

Zayn snorts. “You're drunk.”

“A little.” Louis rests his head on the back of the sofa. “It's just, we've been friends for years. I don't react to change well.”

Zayn raises an eyebrow. “Since when?” 

And maybe Zayn has a point. Louis doesn't mind change. It's a part of life. 

“Why is this bothering you so much?” Zayn asks when Louis's been quiet for too long. 

“Dunno.” It's the truth. He doesn't know, but for the last month, as Zayn's wedding gets closer, he's feeling more and more depressed. And it's not like he's envious or whatever, but, like, there's just this feeling. The feeling gets stronger when he's around Harry. _Harry._

Everything always goes back to Harry fucking Styles. He's so fucking in love with him it hurts. Which, now that he thinks about it, is not really that healthy. He doesn't care, though. Harry isn't making it easier on him either. Ever since Zayn got engaged, Harry has done nothing but talk about getting married and how his wedding is going to be and all that shit that Louis doesn't want him to talk about unless he's talking about it in terms of him and Louis. Fuck. He's in love with Harry and if Harry walked through the door right now Louis would tell him. And that is definitely the alcohol talking.

“I'm drunk,” he states.

“When are you going to tell Harry you're in love with him?” Zayn asks.

Louis chokes on air. “What?” he asks, sitting up. “What the fuck?”

“Am I wrong?” When Louis doesn't answer, Zayn adds “I'm not.”

“Fuck off,” Louis mutters, leaning back.

“Why don't you tell him?” Zayn inquires.

Louis scoffs. “He doesn't feel the same.”

Zayn's eyebrows knit together. “You sure about that?” Louis glares. “I think you'd be surprised if you told him.”

“Fuck off,” he mutters again.

“Alright, fine. I'll drop it.” Zayn takes another drink. “You'll probably conveniently not remember this in the morning.”

“Probably not,” Louis agrees.

*

He's drunk. Again. It's slightly more acceptable now because Zayn and Perrie just got married and you know, drinking happens at weddings, but he's still drunk. And somewhere in this room is Harry, who is probably equally as drunk, if not more. Louis had to stay mostly sober because he had a speech to give, but once that was over he hit the bar. He's kind of regretting that now. And he's lost Niall.

He had been following Niall around for the last hour, but now he's disappeared, so Louis is sitting at the bar alone. Drinking. And he's slightly wishing that this was his wedding – more specifically, his wedding to Harry. 

“I can't believe Zayn's still dancing.”

Louis sighs because, of course Harry would find him drinking alone at the bar. “Is he?”

“Yeah.”

Louis turns on his stool to see that, yes, Zayn is still dancing. “It's your fault.”

Harry shakes his head. “No, see I taught him to waltz. That was all,” he explains. “This,” he gestures to the dance floor where it looks like Zayn is twerking, “is not waltzing. I'm not sure what that is.”

“Maybe by teaching him to waltz you gave him the confidence to take his dancing to other levels.” Louis shrugs. “Then again, he could just be really drunk.”

Harry doesn't say anything. He turns to face the bar and grabs a drink he must have ordered before Louis knew he was there. Harry's attention is completely on his drink, so Louis turns his own attention back to his. The silence isn't uncomfortable, but it's still making Louis's skin crawl. And Louis knows Harry is drunk, but Harry is a happy, clingy drunk. He's being none of those things right now and Louis doesn't know how to handle that.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” Harry asks, breaking the silence and causing Louis to have a minor heart attack.

How does he answer without giving it all away? “What do you mean?” And that is not what he meant to say.

Harry sighs. “You know what I mean,” he says before taking a drink. “I mean, like, you've been fine being around me as long as other people are around, but as soon as we're alone you run off.”

It's Louis's turn to sigh. He sets his drink on the bar and turns on his stool to look at Harry. “Haz, it's nothing to do with you. I've just been a bit depressed lately.” He's hoping Harry will accept that and move on to how Niall almost knocked the cake over earlier.

“That doesn't answer why you've been avoiding me, Lou.”

Damn. Sighing again, Louis pinches the bridge of his nose. “Look, I just, ever since Zayn proposed I've been thinking about whether I'll ever have a chance to do that. To do all of this. And I'm no where close to being there.”

Harry for the first time looks over at him. He looks solemn, which is not something Louis is used to seeing. “Again, I ask, what's that to do with me?”

“Because, I don't know. You're just, you've got everything together, you know?” Harry raises an eyebrow. “You have your life put together and I don't. I'm not even close. I'm not happy with my job. I haven't had a proper relationship in about two years.” The 'ever since I met you' goes unsaid.

“Louis, I do not have my life together,” Harry starts. “I hate my job. And I haven't had much luck in the relationship department either. And there are so many other things I don't have figured out, but I don't think I'm meant to yet.” Harry pauses. “But, we're still young, yeah? So, like, don't let it get you down. I just want my best mate back.”

And that's the problem, isn't it? He's Harry's friend and that's all Harry will ever see him as. But being Harry's friend is better than nothing at all. At least, Louis hopes so.

“I'm sorry, Harry,” he says. “This has nothing to do with you.” That's the biggest lie he's ever told. “I'll stop ditching you.”

Harry smiles, but doesn't say anything. They sit in silence and Louis listens to whatever weird ass music Perrie picked out changes into Edwin McCain's “I'll Be” starts playing.

Louis snorts as soon as he recognizes it. “Did you know,” he starts, looking up to see Harry hasn't moved and is still looking at him. “that he wrote this after a breakup, but it's like one of the top five songs played at weddings?”

Harry doesn't answer. He doesn't even acknowledge that he heard Louis. He blinks slowly and seems to break out of his trance. “Dance with me,” he says.

Louis blinks. “What?” And, it's like, they've danced together before, but never to a song like this.

“Dance with me,” Harry says again, sounding more sure of himself. He stands and holds out a hand for Louis.

Louis rolls his eyes. “You're so weird,” he says, but he takes Harry's hand and allows himself to be pulled onto the dance floor.

*

He's got a fucking terrible headache and his mouth tastes like something died inside it. And there is something very heavy draped across his chest. It has to be a person, but Louis doesn't remember doing anything with anyone.

Louis slowly opens his eyes. When they're fully open he has to hold back a shriek because the heavy thing draped across his chest is Harry. They've shared a bed before and it's not unusual for Louis to wake up with Harry wrapped around him, but Louis is naked. He knows that and he's pretty sure Harry is naked too. And it's all flooded back to him now.

They danced together for a long time and continued to drink and somehow that lead to them jumping in a cab and coming home. They were barely able to keep their hands off each other and, even though they were drunk, it was still the best sex Louis's ever had. But it was with Harry.

Harry shifts and Louis freezes. He stares down at Harry and tries to erase the panicked look because he doesn't know how to handle this situation and he doesn't know how Harry will react.

Harry's eyes open and close a few times before coming to rest on Louis's face. Louis is trying not to panic and Harry looks completely indifferent, which is not good. Louis's always able to read Harry.

“Did we?” Harry asks, voice thick with sleep.

“Yes,” Louis nods.

Harry rolls over so he's on the other side of the bed, but he's not making any move to get up. He's staring up at the ceiling, with an expressionless face.

“Harry!” He hears Liam yell.

Harry sits up and looks at Louis.

“I'll hide,” Louis says. As he's getting under the duvet – which is not the best hiding place – he sees what looks like hurt flash across Harry's face. But that doesn't make sense at all.

As soon as he's hidden he hears the door fly open. 

“Harry,” Liam breaths out. “She's not fucking pregnant.”

“Is that,” Harry hesitates. “Is that a good thing?”

“Fuck yes!” Liam exclaims. Harry doesn't say anything back. “You alright?” Liam asks.

Louis can feel the bed move a little, so he's assuming Harry was nodding. 

“Is there someone here?”

Louis stops breathing. 

“Yes.” 

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“I'll just go then,” Liam says. 

Louis waits until he hears the door shut before coming out.

*

He was able to make it across the hall without running into Liam. And they didn't talk about it. As in him and Harry. They didn't talk. Louis had said he'd needed to work, which was only a part lie and gotten out of there as quick as possible. Anything Louis said last night about not avoiding Harry now was pointless. He'll definitely be avoiding Harry.

“Where were you last night?” Niall asks, coming out of the bathroom. 

“Not here,” Louis mutters.

“I know that,” Niall says. He hits Louis with his towel when he walks by. “Who'd you go home with?”

“What makes you think I went home with someone?”

Louis can almost hear Niall rolling his eyes. “Were you roaming around the city the whole night?”

“No,” Louis answer. “But I could've stayed somewhere else without sleeping with someone.”

Niall hums. “You were at Harry's then.”

Louis freezes and he hopes Niall still isn't looking at him.

“Were you?” When Louis stays silent, he adds, “You were.”

Louis turns in his chair to see Niall sitting on the counter eating a slice of leftover pizza. “Why do you care?” 

Niall swallows. “It's just interesting is all.”

“How so?” Louis asks. He's afraid to know. Niall somehow knows a lot more than people think he does.

“It's just, you were gone last night and you're acting all shady, right?” He doesn't wait for Louis to answer. “Liam texted me earlier and said Harry was acting all mopey and that he had someone with him last night, but wouldn't talk about it.”

Louis's heart stops. “So?” he asks, trying to sound indifferent.

“And you've got a love bite on your neck,” Niall points out.

Louis instinctively reaches out to cover it. “So?”

Niall shrugs. “I'm just wondering if the two aren't correlated somehow.”

Louis narrows his eyes. “What are you saying?”

Niall shrugs again, but doesn't say anything. Figuring that Niall has decided to drop the conversation, Louis turns back around.

“Are you going to make me ask?” 

Turning around to face Niall again, Louis asks, “What?”

“You and Harry slept together.”

And it's not a question. Niall knows. He somehow knows and this isn't happening. It can't be happening. 

“It doesn't matter,” Louis mutters, turning back around.

“I guess you don't mind me telling Liam it was you, then.”

Louis jumps up and spins around to see Niall hopping off the counter and walking toward the door. “Don't you fucking dare,” he spits out, causing Niall to freeze with his hand on the doorknob. “You don't tell a fucking soul, Niall.”

Niall turns around, a questioning look on his face. “What the fuck?”

“You don't tell anyone” he sneers, going to stand directly in front of him. “It's no body's fucking business and I don't want you running around telling stories.”

Niall puts his hands up in surrender. “Jesus. Alright. Thought you were in love with him, so I thought this was a good thing.”

“You thought what?” He asks, stepping closer.

“I thought you were in love with him, so I figured if you slept together that meant you finally told him,” Niall explains. 

Louis sighs and ducks his head. All the anger that was there is gone now and has been replaced with sadness. “It's not how you think.”

“So you didn't tell him how you feel?”

Louis shakes his head. “We didn't even discuss what happened. I just left and he let me.”

“Oh Lou.” He sees Niall's feet come into view and he's being engulfed in his arms. “What did happen?”

He wraps his arms around Niall. “We were drunk. I was feeling depressed. Harry came over. We talked about how I was feeling, but only what I told him not the actual truth, you know. Then he asked me to dance. Next thing I know, we were snogging in the back of the cab.”

Niall squeezes him. “Why don't you go over and talk to him.”

Louis immediately starts shaking his head. “I can't do that.”

“Why?”

“He doesn't feel the same.”

“You won't know that until you talk to him,” Niall offers.

“Yes I do.” After a beat he adds, “I don't want to talk about it.”

Niall sighs and lets go of him. “Alright. If you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to. I think you're making a big mistake, but it's not my decision.”

Louis tries to smile, but he thinks it might have looked more like a grimace. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, alright.” Niall walks over to the fridge and grabs a couple beers. “This mushy sappy shit has gone on for too long.” He plops himself down on the sofa. “Let's drink.” 

“Drinking got me into this mess,” Louis points out.

“Yes, but drinking will help you not think about it.” He holds a beer out for him. “Or maybe not, but come drink with me.” Louis complies, sitting on the sofa, he grabs the beer. “You're not going to try to fuck me are you?” Niall asks, causing Louis to choke on his drink.

“Jesus fucking christ! No!”

“Good.” After a few minutes of silence, Niall asks, “So, you are in love with him?” Louis gives him a pointed look. “I know you said you didn't want to talk about it, but you didn't deny it earlier.”

“Yes, I am.” And it feels good letting it out, admitting it to someone other than his mother. 

“Is this the first time anything has ever happened between you?”

“Yes.”

“Jesus! I thought you'd been sleeping together for a while now.” 

Louis chokes again. “What on Earth?”

Niall shrugs. “Just sayin'. Thought you were. I can be wrong sometimes.”

“Sometimes,” he snorts. “Can we be done with this please?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Thank fuck. At this point he's not sure how to proceed. Harry didn't stop him from leaving and he didn't seem bothered by it at all. Didn't seem happy, angry. Nothing. He has absolutely no idea how to handle this and he's got a horrible feeling that Harry is going to help much.

*

They're still acting weird and Zayn has noticed. He's definitely noticed. And there is no way he's going to let Louis go without confronting him first. It's just since _The_ night Harry and Louis have barely had any interaction with each other. And when the do interact it's awkward as fuck. They've never been awkward. And they still haven't talked about it, which is probably contributing to the awkwardness, but Louis just cannot bring himself to start the conversation.

Anyway, Niall has noticed because, like obviously. Niall knows what happened, he'd have to be an idiot to not see what was happening. And Liam has noticed too if the looks he's been sending Louis are anything to go by. And that's got Louis wondering if Harry told Liam about what happened or if Liam's figured it out on his own.

And two weeks later, Zayn now knows. They'd all gotten together for their every Saturday morning breakfast. Liam and Harry had both had to go to work an hour ago so they moved to his and Niall's. Zayn knows and Niall is leaving for work right this minute and Zayn is going to pounce. There's no doubt about it.

Once Niall is out the door, Zayn rounds on him. “What in the hell is going on with you and Harry?”

“We ju-.”

“And don't,” Zayn intterupts, “do that thing where you pretend everything is fine because that – whatever that was – was not fine.”

“Zayn, I-.”

“And don't deny that you're in love with him either. I know you remember telling me that.”

Louis sighs, leaning against the counter. “I wasn't going to deny-.”

“I was gone for two weeks and you've somehow manged to fuck it all up!”

He doesn't say anything. Zayn's right. He did fuck it, but hearing Zayn say it causes the full realization of the situation to hit him.

“Lou? You okay?” Zayn looks concerned.

Louis doesn't know how his face looks, but it has to be bad if Zayn is concerned. “You're right,” he says quietly. “I did fuck it up.”

Zayn comes closer. “What happened?”

“I slept with him.” And it's that simple. Four words. Four words is what he did to ruin his relationship with the best person in the world.

“Right.” Zayn drags the word out. “Explain to me how that's a bad thing.”

Louis runs a hand through his hair. “It was the night of the wedding. I was drunk. Thinking about how in love with him I am and he comes over acting all weird and calls me out on avoiding him.” He pauses and Zayn takes the chance to interject.

“This happened the night of the wedding and I'm just now hearing about this?”

Louis tilts his head. “You were on your honeymoon.”

“Could've sent a text or email.”

“Anyway.” Louis shakes his head. “I gave him a less than truthful version of what I was thinking. I left out the parts with him. I agreed to stop avoiding him and then he just asked me to dance.”

“During “I'll Be”, right?”

Louis nods. “Yeah. And like we continued dancing and drinking. And we slept together.”

“Yeah, okay. But what happened between then and now to make you all act so weirdly toward each other?”

“Woke up in his bed. Liam started to come in and I hid under the cover. Once Liam left I left. Harry didn't try to stop me.”

Zayn scratches the back of his neck. “Louis.”

“We still haven't talked,” he adds.

“Do you think he wanted you to leave?”

“For fucks sake!” He exclaims, throwing his arms up. “He didn't stop me! He obviously didn't want me there. He hasn't tried to talk about it.”

“And you're not going to try?” Louis nods his head. “So, you're going to let this ruin your friendship?”

“Yes.”

“Louis.”

“What do you want me to say?” He walks over to the table and sits in a chair. “I can't fix this. It's not possible.”

“Yes it is,” Zayn says, sitting across from him.

“Look, I don't want to talk about it.”

“Louis,” Zayn warns.

“I don't,” he replies, forcefully. “Let's just drop it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Alright.” Zayn stands and walks toward the door. When there he turns to face Louis. “I hope the two of you can find a way to fix this. I really do. Because what the two of you have or had or whatever is special. And it's worth fixing.”

He doesn't let Louis answer before he walks out.

*

The past two months have been terrible. They aren't better. Not really, but, because they share friends, they've been around each other a lot and it's hard not to interact, but they hardly ever see each other without the others. So, that's why Louis is frozen in the doorway of the coffee shop. Harry is here. Alone. By himself. In their spot.

Louis has three options: he can leave, he can sit with Harry, or he can stay and pretend to not notice Harry. He doesn't want to do any of those options.

Without realizing it he's moved closer to Harry. Maybe this is what they need. Maybe if they're alone together they'll be forced to talk. Maybe.

When he's sitting in the armchair, he clears his throat. Harry looks up from his spot on the sofa and blinks in surprise.

“Hey,” Louis mutters.

“Hey, yourself,” Harry says before turning his attention back to his book. And okay. Louis can deal with that.

Since Harry doesn't seem to be in the mood to talk, Louis pulls out his laptop to do the work that he had planned on doing anyway. If Harry wants to ignore the elephant in the room, Louis will go along with it.

After half an hour, Louis is startled by a gasp. He looks up to see Zayn standing at the counter, mouth wide open looking between him and Harry. Harry hasn't seemed to notice. Zayn's still staring. Louis holds his hands up and shakes his head. Zayn closes his mouth and nods before coming to sit next to Harry.

“Hey,” he says. “Did you know that Niall's birthday is Monday?”

“Yes, Zayn. I'm pretty sure Niall's birthday happens like every September thirteenth,” Louis deadpans. Harry chuckles lightly and Louis tries not to punch the air with joy.

Zayn fixes him with a pointed look. “I'm very much aware of that, Tommo. I just meant did you know it was this Monday? As in, three days from now.”

“Hadn't really thought about it.”

“Wait.” Harry's head shoots up. “Do we have anything planned? We don't have anything planned. What do we do?”

“See,” Zayn says, “this is what I was getting at.”

“We'll just take him to a pub or something. He's Irish. He'll be okay with that,” Louis answers.

Zayn glares. “He's turning thirty.”

“And you only turn thirty once,” Harry adds.

“You all didn't do anything special for my thirtieth birthday,” Louis points out. 

“That's because you have the most ill-timed birthday,” Harry counters. And that's really the first time Harry has said something specifically aimed at Louis.

“I'll have you know, Harold, that I was-.”

“Hey lads,” Niall interrupts, sitting on the sofa next to Harry.

“I've had a shit day,” Liam says, dropping on Harry's other side, closest to Zayn.

“What happened, Payno?” Louis asks.

“No,” Niall quickly says. “You do not want to hear it. Trust me.”

“You really don't,” Zayn adds. “He told me all about it earlier.”

“It got worse,” Liam adds.

Zayn snorts. “Sure it did.”

“So, what do you all have planned for my birthday?” Niall asks.

Zayn chokes on his drink.

“Oh, you know,” Louis starts because Zayn's still choking and Harry looks panicked, “just thought a pub would be nice.” Zayn glares at him, while choking. “Thought we'd try to get you laid,” he adds.

“Sounds ace, Tommo.”

Louis sends a curt smile at Zayn.

“Remind me again when we're doing this?” Liam asks, playing along.

“Well, definitely not on Monday,” Zayn answers. “We've all got work Tuesday. Don't want to have a hangover.”

“We can't tonight,” Harry says quietly.

Niall shifts his body to look at him. “Why?”

“Harry's got a date,” Liam says causing Louis to die a little.

Harry whips his head to look at Liam. Louis can't see his face, but he's pretty sure Harry is glaring, which mean Liam wasn't supposed to say anything. And that gives Louis a tiny bit of hope.

“So tomorrow?” Zayn asks, shooting Louis a worried glance.

“Sounds good,” Louis forces himself to say. “Well, lads,” he says, standing. “I've got to run.”

“Really?” Zayn asks, still looking worried.

“Yeah, you know. Got work related stuff.” He waves a hand around. “See ya at home, Niall. Bye.”

He pretends not to notice that Harry was the only one to not say bye to him.

*

He's not obsessively checking through the peephole for Harry to come back. _He's not._ Well, actually he is. He has been every five minutes for two hours.

“Louis,” sighs Niall, from the sofa.

“What?” 

“Maybe you should stop,” he suggests.

“Maybe you should stop,” Louis parrots.

“You've been at it for two hours, Lou.”

“Your point?” he asks, looking out the peephole, seeing nothing.

“Look, I know how you feel about Harry. I know every detail of this situation. God knows you complain about it enough,” he adds. Louis goes to defend himself, but Niall quickly continues. “I just think that maybe you should stop.”

“Stop what?” he asks, narrowing his eyes.

“This whole thing,” Niall answers. “It's not healthy.”

Louis blinks. “Not healthy? You think I don't know that?” he snaps. “How about you try being hopelessly in love with your best friend, but being rejected. It's not fun.”

Niall sighs again. “Yeah, okay. Do what you want.”

“I bloody damn will,” Louis says, turning back to the peephole.

*

Niall forced him into bed around one o'clock when Harry still hadn't come home. Louis didn't sleep. How could he when Harry was still out with his date? Hell, he was probably at his date's place doing things that Louis tried very hard not to think about, but failed at.

And since it's Saturday, him and Niall along with Zayn are sitting in Liam and Harry's flat for breakfast. They've been there for ten minutes and there's been no sign of Harry. Louis won't ask. He refuses to. But with each passing minute of Harry not being here he's dying.

“So, uh, where's Harry?” Niall asks before taking a bite of his eggs.

Louis kind of wants to kill him, but he's also thankful. Louis would very much like to know Harry's whereabouts.

“Dunno really,” Liam responds. 

“You don't know?” Zayn asks, turning away from the stove to look at Liam.

“I mean, I assume he's at Roger's,” Liam answers, shrugging.

“Roger?”

“His date.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Louis groans.

“You alright?” Liam asks. 

Louis should not be aggravated with Liam, but he is. He knows he's never mentioned to Liam about the Harry situation, but how in the world does he not know. He's honestly surprised Niall hasn't slipped and told him.

“He's in love with Harry,” Niall answers like he can read Louis's mind.

“What?” Louis looks up at Liam and sees that he's frozen with his fork halfway to his mouth. “You're in love with Harry?”

“'Course he is,” Niall says. Louis glares at him. “Well, you are. Surprised you didn't pick up on it, Liam.”

“I'm so sorry,” Liam gulped. “I had no idea.”

“I don't need your pity,” Louis snaps.

“Louis,” Zayn warns.

“Well I don't.”

“I can't imagine how hard this is,” Liam continues.

Louis holds up a hand. “Don't worry about it, mate.” He stands. “Look, it's been fun, but I'm not really feeling this. I'm going to go.”

He starts toward the door, but is stopped by an angry looking Zayn, who's pointing a spatula at him. “Oh no you're not. You're not running away from this anymore.”

“Who says I'm running?”

“Louis, you need to talk about this.”

“No I fucking don't,” he spits out.

“Yes, you do.”

“Maybe,” Niall starts, “talking about it will help you to move on.”

“Did you ever think that maybe I don't want to move on?” he asks. “Like, I'm in love with the most amazing person in the world. I can't do any better than Harry. There is no one better than Harry.”

Of course, Harry chooses this exact moment to walk through the door causing Louis's heart to stop. “What about me?” he asks, sitting his keys on the table by the door.

“Nothing,” Louis answers.

Harry raises an eyebrow. “Nothing?”

“Yeah, yeah. Nothing.” He knows he's being rude. He doesn't care. “Anyway, I was just leaving.” 

He doesn't give anyone a chance to stop him before he shoves past Harry and walks out.

*

**A Year Later**

“What the hell is going on?” he asks after being shoved into Liam and Harry's apartment by a very excited Liam. Niall and Zayn are here too, he notices.

“Harry's got some big news,” Niall says over his shoulder.

His brow furrows. “Really? I don't see him anywhere.”

“He's in his room finishing a call with Anne,” Liam explains, pushing Louis further into the room. “He wanted me to make sure you were all here.”

“Do you know what this is about?” he asks, sitting on the sofa next to Zayn.

“Not a clue.”

“Good, you're all here,” Harry says, walking in the room. He's got a huge smile. Louis doesn't know why, but he's suddenly feeling very nauseous. 

“Come on, Hazza,” Niall says. “Let's get this over with. Some of us have lives to lead.”

Harry's smile grows. “I'm getting married.”

Louis heart explodes into billions of pieces. There's no way. No fucking way. Harry cannot be getting married. There's a stunned silence, but Harry's smile is still there.

“You're what?” He hears Liam ask.

“Getting married,” Harry responds. “Roger asked last night.”

“And you're telling us now instead of then?”

“We, uh, we celebrated.”

“Right.”

Louis looks up from his lap and sees Liam pulling Harry into a hug and Niall hugging both of them. He's vaguely aware of Zayn patting him on the shoulder before getting up to hug Harry.

“This calls for a celebration,” Niall says. “'Course not the kind you did last night.”

Harry laughs at that.

What Louis does is a dick move. He knows that, but he can't sit here and pretend to be happy when his life is falling apart. He gets up and walks out without a word.

*

They found him. He supposes that wasn't too hard to do considering he's in his flat, but still. He wants to be alone.

“That was rude as fuck,” Zayn says as soon as the door is shut.

He counters with, “You think so?”

“You didn't have to walk out,” Liam says.

“I didn't have to stay in there and pretend my heart wasn't breaking,” he hisses. “Again.”

“I would've done the same,” Niall says.

Zayn gives Niall a pointed look before turning his attention back to Louis. “Did you ever think that you're being a bit ridiculous about this?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Oh hey.”

They all turn to see Harry walking in. Fucking of course.

“You all sort of disappeared,” he says. When he sees Louis his whole demeanor changes. He looks a combination of hurt and anger. “What the hell is your fucking problem? Are you not fucking happy for me?” he directs at Louis.

The other three freeze and glance between the two of them. They've all seen Harry upset before. They've seen him hurt and panicked and angry and everything in between, but this is not something he usually does. He never comes right at someone this. It's weird and if Louis didn't feel like he was drowning, he'd probably be caught off guard by it and try to calm him down.

“No,” Louis says, simply. “No, I'm not.”

“Why not?” Harry demands, crossing his arms against his chest.

“I don't like Roger.” He does not want to be having this conversation, but he's speaking without his permission. “I think he's a prick. And I think you could do better. I don't support this fucking marriage or engagement or whatever the hell.”

“Good thing I don't need your approval,” Harry spits back with.

“Don't you?” Harry blinks in confusion. “I'm your best mate, aren't I? Shouldn't you want my approval?”

“Want, yes,” Harry answers. “Need, no. Get over yourself, Louis. Your opinion doesn't actually mean that much. And you haven't really been acting much like a friend to me lately. Stop being so fucking selfish. Fuck off.”

He storms out, slamming the door after him.

“Well, that went well,” Niall says.

Louis snorts. “You all can leave.”

“I live here,” Niall points out.

“Leave,” he orders, but before he can see if they do or not he goes to his room and locks the door so he can cry in peace.

*

“You should go and talk to him is all I'm saying,” Liam says. “He's been fucking miserable.”

“Oh is he?” Louis asks, feigning shock. “I can't possibly imagine why. I mean, he did just get engaged after all.”

“I think you're being over dramatic about this.”

“Seriously?”

“Louis.”

“I don't expect you to understand, Liam,” he says. “I'm in love with him. Of course I'm not going to be happy about him marrying someone else.”

“Yes, but he doesn't know that,” Liam responds. “And don't you want him to be happy?”

“Yes, well...” Fuck Liam. He's fucking right. Harry has no idea why Louis is acting like this. And if Louis's being honest with himself, acting like this isn't going to help anything. And he wants Harry to be happy and if marrying Roger makes him happy, Louis should be happy. “Fuck you, Liam,” he says standing up. 

“Where are you going?” Liam asks.

“To talk to him,” Louis answers over his shoulder as he walks out of the coffee shop.

*

He knocks, but doesn't wait for Harry to answer before poking his head in and asking, “Can I come in?”

Harry's spread out on his bed, staring at the ceiling like he does when he's seriously thinking.

“Depends,” he answers, without looking at him. “Are you going to be a dick?”

“I'll try very hard not to,” he answers. “I wanted to talk,” he adds.

Harry doesn't answer. He just sits up and scoots to the left side of the bed. Louis takes it as an answer, though. He walks over and sits next to Harry.

“I think I owe you an explanation,” he states.

Harry snorts. “You think? You've been a dick.”

“I know.”

“What's your problem?” Harry inquires.

Louis exhales deeply before answering. “I said I didn't like Roger and that was the truth.”

“You've never really given him a chance, Louis,” Harry replies.

“I know,” he says. “And that's my problem. I just -.” He cuts himself off. He has no idea what to say and he doesn't want to make this worse. “I just don't like him, okay. And I dunno. I don't really get what you see in him, but there has to be something. And I trust you. And if he makes you happy than I'm happy.”

Harry's chewing on his bottom lip. “So, you are happy?” he inquires.

“If you are.”

Harry nods. “I am.”

“Then so am I.” Except he's not. “But I still don't like him.” Harry raises a questioning eyebrow. “I'm not a hundred percent convinced that this wedding is a good idea, but I am happy for you.”

“That's all I can ask for,” Harry says, shifting so he's faced more toward Louis. 

“Good.” Louis stands. “Now, I'm not fucking with you when I say this, but I have to go to work.” Harry's face falls. “I'll be back later, yeah? We can talk more then.”

“Okay.”

Louis turns and walks out surprised they got through that conversation without having the one they should've had a year ago.

*

Louis still does not approve of this wedding, but he has to admit that watching Harry running around planning it is entertaining. Still he doesn't approve of this wedding and he's lit it slip multiple times, but then Harry's giving him that hurt look of his and he apologizes and moves on. Except he doesn't. He's still in love with Harry. And he still fucking hates Roger – although Niall keeps telling him he'd love Roger under different circumstances.

Despite his feelings toward Harry's wedding, it has served to fix their friendship – unless you ask Zayn. And maybe Zayn is right. Maybe their friendship is just as bad as it was before, but Louis would like to think that it's better. That the time he spends with Harry, listening to him talk about how great his wedding is going to be, is better than not spending time with Harry.

Regardless of who's right – it's more than likely Zayn – Louis has enjoyed being around Harry.

“Do you think we could find a way to shave Zayn's head?” he asks, as he and Harry enter the coffee shop.

Harry chuckles. “Maybe if we drug him we could do it.”

Louis shakes his head. “No. Tried that once. Didn't work.”

“I don't think I've ever heard that story,” Harry says, sitting next to him on the sofa.

Before Louis has a chance to explain, Niall walks over and hands them their drinks. 

“Quicker than usual, Niall,” he remarks.

“Not that busy,” he shrugs. He seems worried as he turns to Harry. “Did you, you know?”

Harry seems unphased by Niall's weird mood. “Not yet. Going to as soon as you walk away.”

Niall's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Here? In a public place?”

Louis is even more intrigued now. “What the fuck are you two on about?”

They choose to ignore him.

“What's wrong with here?” Harry asks, bemused.

“Wouldn't it be better in a private place?”

“I'm doing it here, Niall,” Harry says, before taking a drink of his tea.

“Yeah, alright.” He shoots Louis a worried glance. “I'll be home around six,” he says to him.

“Okay.”

And then Niall is back behind the counter sending more worried glances their way.

“What the hell was that about?” 

Harry turns his body to face him. “I wanted to ask you something. And I'm not sure how you're going to react.”

“Ask away, Harold.”

“Well, um, I was, uh-.”

“Jesus, Harry, what the hell is it?”

Harry ducks his head and twiddles his fingers in his lap. “I was wondering if you'd be my best man.”

Louis's world stops. Harry asked him to be his best man. At a wedding he knows Louis doesn't support. Because Louis is in love with him. Except Harry doesn't know that last part, but still. “What?” he manages to say.

“Be my best man,” Harry says, voice filled with hope. And that makes Louis angry.

“Why the fuck would I do that?” he spits, causing Harry's head to shoot up. His eyes are wide and he looks a mixture of panicked and hurt. “You know I don't agree with this.”

“But you're my best mate,” Harry explains. “Shouldn't you want me to be happy?”

“Yes, but-.”

“Why aren't you?”

And this is it. Harry's given him the perfect opportunity to admit everything. Of course he doesn't take it. “I don't fucking like Roger,” he says, standing up. “And I don't approve. You won't be happy,” he adds before storming off with a broken heart again.

And when Niall gets home from work that evening he slips wordlessly into Louis's bed and holds him while he cries.

*

He hasn't talked to Harry since the question. He hasn't tried and Harry hasn't tried either. It's been difficult, but they've managed to avoid each other completely.

Zayn and Liam had shown up the next morning and told him that Harry hadn't told them what happened. Just that Louis had said no. They had been told by Niall, who had seen and heard the whole thing. They said they understood where Louis was coming from, but they all agreed that he handled it wrong. Louis pointed out that they always think he handles things wrong and then locked himself in his room for two days.

He found out two days later that Liam was Harry's best man. Liam promised he “wouldn't enjoy a bit of it” and then went on to tell him that the wedding was scheduled for September tenth, which is today. And the reason that Louis is curled up in his bed with his laptop, trying not to fall apart.

He startles when there's a soft knock on his door. “Go away,” he mutters, quietly so they probably didn't hear him.

The door slowly opens and Niall sticks his head in. “Mate,” is all he says before opening the door the rest of the way and walking in, Zayn and Liam trailing behind him. They're all dressed and ready to go, which only upsets Louis more. They all three sit on the bed with him.

“You sure you don't want to come?” Niall asks.

Louis snorts. “Of course I don't want to fucking come.”

“Thought I'd ask.”

“You going to be okay?” Liam asks.

“Probably not,” he answers, lowering his eyes.

“I'll stay with you,” Zayn offers.

Any other time, Zayn's loyalty to him would be flattering, but now it only makes him feel weak and like everything will, in fact, not be okay.

“No,” he mutters. “He's your friend. You should go.”

“We don't want to leave you,” Niall says, wrapping an arm around him. 

“I want you to.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

He lifts his head up. “Look, you all need to be going. Harry's probably freaking out because he can't find you all. Go calm him down.”

“You've always been the best at that,” Liam mutters.

“Just go. I'll be fine,” he reassures them. He knows he's not fooling them, but he's going to pretend he is.

“Yeah, okay.”

Before they leave they each hug him and tell him he'll be alright. He doesn't believe it, but it's a nice sentiment.

*

What the fuck is that sound, he thinks, while putting his pillow over his head. He's trying to drown out the sound, but somehow it gets louder. It won't stop. And oh. It's his phone. He throws the pillow off and blindly reaches for his phone. He grabs it right as it stops ringing. It gives him the chance to see he has twenty-seven missed calls and fifteen texts. They're from multiple people, but the last few calls are from Zayn. And shouldn't they be celebrating Harry's wedding to fucking Roger.

Before he can dwell on it more, the phone starts ringing again. 

“What?” he answers, bringing the phone to his ear.

“Thank fuck,” Zayn's voice says. “Why the fuck didn't you answer before? What the fuck were you doing?”

He sounds frantic. “What's the problem, Zayn?”

Louis does not understand a thing Zayn says. He makes out the words: Harry, you, fucking hell, kill you both, missing, Anne, Gemma, and cake. That's all. That's all Louis caught because Zayn basically vomited the words at him

“Zayn, you're going to have to repeat that because I didn't understand a word.”

He hears Zayn sigh and then rustling.

“What are you doing?” He hears Zayn's voice.

“Give me the damn phone,” comes Liam's voice.

Zayn must listen to him because Liam is saying “Louis, I need you not to panic, okay?”

“I don't know why I would,” he responds. “Aren't you at the wedding?”

“Uh, yeah. There's been a slight problem.”

Louis freezes. A problem? What kind of problem could there be that would require calling him twenty times on Harry's wedding day.

“What kind of problem?”

Liam hesitates. “Well, you see, everything was going fine. Swimmingly, actually.” Louis rolls his eyes. “But then it came time for the vows. Roger said his and I was thinking that I really wanted Harry to talk fast for once in his life because I really needed to piss.”

“Liam, skip to the problem,” he says, patience wearing thin.

“Right, yeah sorry.” Liam pauses to take a deep breath. “See, I'd heard Harry practice his vows a hundred times, so when I misheard I thought it was just me, but there was a collective gasp and then I realized that I didn't mishear.”

“Liam,” he warns.

“Right. Harry said your name.”

That doesn't make sense. And when he says as much, Liam laughs. 

“He said your name, Louis. He said your name instead of Roger's,” he explains. “Harry isn't in love with Roger. He's in love with you.”

“No, he isn't,” he says, shaking his head. It doesn't make sense. He has to be dreaming. There's no way Harry would do this.

“Well, maybe not,” Zayn's voice says, apparently having grabbed the phone back. “But he said your name instead of Roger's, all the same.”

Oh shit. Harry said the wrong name. That's got to be embarrassing as fuck. “Where is Harry?” he asks. He knows Harry. He knows Harry's probably panicked. Kind of like how Louis is right now.

“That's the even bigger problem.” Niall is now talking. “We have no fucking clue where he went. He just ran away. Didn't say anything. We can't find him.”

“I'll check the flat,” Louis says, getting off the bed.

“He's not answering his phone, either,” Niall continues. “May not even have it with him.”

That's a good point. If Harry ran out like they said he did, it's a damn good chance he didn't stop to find his phone.

“Look,” he starts,” there's a good chance Harry is hiding somewhere. We should all split up and look for him.”

“Is that a good idea?” Liam asks.

“Do you have me on speaker?”

“Yes. Answer my question.”

“Why would it be bad for me to look for him?”

“He said your name, Lou,” Zayn says. “Whether he's in love with you or not, he said the wrong name in front of a church full of people. There's a chance he could be pissed at you.”

“This isn't my fault,” he says, affronted.

“Didn't say it was,” Zayn reminds him.

“I think,”Liam says, “that we should split up and start searching. Anne and Gemma are already out.”

“It's a big city,” Zayn agrees.

“Okay, that's settled then.” Louis slips on his Toms and grabs his keys and wallet. “I'll start with the flat. Let everyone else know if we find him.”

They all mutter their agreement and Niall adds “Get your man, Louis” before he hangs up.

*

In the end, it doesn't take him long to find Harry. He takes a moment to send a group text to the others saying, “Can't believe you all didn't think to check the coffee shop”. After he hits send, he continues to stand just inside the door of the coffee shop. Harry's sitting on the sofa, dressed in his tux. Louis can only see his profile, but he can tell Harry's been crying – might still be. His head is hung and he's ripping a part a piece of paper apart in his lap.

The thing is, Louis doesn't know how to approach the situation. They haven't spoken in three months. And Zayn's right. He could be the last person Harry wants to see right now, but Harry is in obvious need of comfort.

Before he realizes it, he's sitting next to Harry, who doesn't seem to notice his presence as he continues to rip the paper to shreds. Louis reaches over and grabs Harry's hands, causing him to stop ripping the paper. Harry freezes and Louis hears his breath hitch. And for some reason that makes Louis calm down.

He doesn't say anything. He continues to hold Harry's hand still and wait for him to break the silence.

“You know,” he finally says. 

It's not a question, but Louis nods anyway and then realizes Harry's still looking at his lap. “Yes, I know.”

Harry sighs. “I don't know what happened.” He's speaking quietly and Louis has to strain to hear him.

“Yes, you do,” Louis says, almost as quietly.

“I'm sorry.” 

Louis's brows furrow in confusion. “For what?”

“The last few months,” Harry says to his lap. “The last couple of years, really.”

Louis snorts. “Listen, Curly, if anyone should be apologizing it should be me.” Harry hiccups. “I've been a right prick to you. I should've been there today.”

“Don't think that would've made it easier, Lou.”

“Maybe not.” 

They fall into silence again. He's still holding Harry's hands and he feels his pulse pick up.

“What happened, Harry?”

Harry shakes his head. “I don't know.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not right now.”

“Let's get you home then.” He finally lets go of Harry's hands. 

Harry finally looks at him. His eyes are full of tears and so many emotions that Louis can't begin to make out.

“You're not going to make me talk?”

“Not right now, no.”

Harry nods before ducking his head. “Thank you.”

“Don't thank me yet,” Louis says under his breath.

*

He sent a text to the lads asking them not to come to Harry's. Somehow he doesn't imagine Harry wanting to talk with the others pressing their ears against whatever door separates them. Thankfully, they seem to have gotten the message.

He's been waiting on the sofa for Harry for half an hour. He'd said he was going to take a shower and change into more comfortable clothes, but this is long even for Harry. Just as he's decided Harry's changed his mind and is ready to break down the door to force him to talk, Harry emerges looking worse for wear, wearing trackies and a black tee. He freezes in the doorway, staring at Louis. Harry's thirty, but he's never seemed more childlike in the face. His eyes are still watery and he looks like he's trying to hold himself together. Louis wants to hold him in his arms and never let go.

“You can come sit,” he says, patting the spot next to him. He does sit, but it's on the other side of the sofa as far as he can get from Louis. He's got his arms wrapped around his knees where his chin is resting. “I'm ready when you are.”

“I fucked everything up,” he says, not meeting Louis's eyes. 

“No you didn't,” he consoles.

“Yes I did,” Harry sniffs. “I fucked up everything. I fucked up our relationship. I fucked up my wedding because I said your fucking name.”

“Whoa, hold on.” Louis holds his hands up. “Firstly, I'm the one that fucked up our relationship. Secondly, you did say my name, so I think that means I fucked up you wedding.”

Harry gives a wet laugh. “You weren't there. I was supposed to be confessing my love for Roger and instead I ended up confessing my undying love for you.”

Louis's heart skips. What Harry says means nothing. Just because Harry said his name doesn't mean he feels the same, he reminds himself.

“That doesn't mean anything, Harry.” 

Harry snorts. “Doesn't it? I mean, for god's sake Louis. I said your name. At my wedding.”

“Does this mean I'm Rachel?” he jokes, trying to make Harry feel better. Although, if he's being honest with himself it's to ease the tension he's feeling. It only works a little.

“I'm not Ross,” Harry grumbles, barely concealing his smile. 

“But seriously.” Harry's smile falls. “Why did you say my name?”

He holds his breath waiting for an answer. Just when he's about to give up on getting an answer he gets one.

“I'm in love with you,” Harry says, softly, causing Louis's heart to explode.

“I don't understand,” he manages to say. “I don't understand.” He's angry – maybe irrationally – but if Harry's in love with him why the past two years? The past couple of months? “I don't fucking understand? If you're in love with me why this whole thing with Roger?”

Harry's afraid. He can see it in his eyes and if it were someone else causing that fear Louis'd be the first to comfort him, but Louis has had enough. He's been miserable. Fucking miserable because he thought Harry didn't feel the same and now all of a sudden Harry does and he doesn't know how to react.

“If you don't feel the same, I understand,” Harry explains.

“If I don't feel the same?” Louis's voice is rising. “What the fuck, Harry?”

“I've tried to ignore it,” Harry continues. “I knew it wasn't fair to Roger. For him not to have all my love, but I realized a long time ago no one could.”

Louis stares, open mouthed. His brain is short circuiting. Harry is admitting his love to him and all he's doing is staring.

“You asked me to be your best man.” And that is not what he wanted to say at all.

“I know. You're my best friend. I wanted you to be there,” he explains, simply.

“I think if you wanted me there it would be because you were marrying me.” Harry takes it the wrong way. He sees the hurt flash across his face. “Shit. That's not what I meant. Sorry.”

“It's fine.”

“I don't understand. For how long? Why not say anything?”

“Pretty much since I met you,” he replies. “The first time,” he adds. Shit. That beats Louis. And what the fuck. This isn't a competition. “I never said anything because I was afraid of rejection.”

This is where Louis should admit his feelings for Harry, who's laying himself bare, but he's having a hard time wrapping his head around this. Harry's been in love with him since they met and he's been afraid of Louis rejecting him. They're both fucking idiots.

“You started being weird before Zayn's wedding,” he continues. “You were avoiding me. I thought you'd picked up on it.” Harry couldn't be further from the truth. “At the wedding I got a little liquid luck and I'd planned on telling you. I was prepared to deal with the consequences. Turns out I fucked that up. When I woke up the next morning and you were there I couldn't read you. And then you hid from Liam and left immediately without so much as looking at me. I thought you regretted it.” 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Harry,” he breathes.

He holds a hand up to stop him from continuing. “Let me finish.” He pauses to take a deep breath. “Everything was weird after that. We were never alone together, so I couldn't talk to you even if I'd been brave enough to. And then you reacted so weirdly about Roger. I didn't really know how to take that, but you never said anything so I ignored it.” Harry pauses again, looking thoughtful. “And then you just walked out when I told you I was engaged, which was even more confusing. And it made me angry because I didn't understand why you wouldn't want me to be happy after making me fall in love with you.” 

He ducks his head and Louis wants to kiss him. Tell him how much he's in love with him, but they still have so much to talk about.

“Basically, I'm in love with you and I will always be in love with you,” he concludes. He's still looking down, but Louis can see a slight blush on Harry's cheeks.

“Well, Harold,” he starts, not sure how to go about this. “Looks like we've fucked things up.” Harry looks up, an eyebrow raised. “Because see, I've been madly in love with you for years.”

Harry blinks slowly, face blank of all emotion. “Don't fuck with me, Louis,” he warns.

“I'm not.”

“Then I don't understand.”

“Harry,” he says, scooting closer to him. “I was avoiding you before Zayn's wedding because I realized I was in love with you and I didn't think you felt the same. I hid that morning because I couldn't read you and I didn't know if we wanted to tell the lads. I left, yeah, but you didn't stop me and that killed me. I was angry that you were dating Roger because I wanted to be dating you.” 

Harry's brows furrow. “You're in love with me?”

“Yes.”

“We're idiots.”

“Yes.”

There's silence for a minute before Harry breaks it.

“Just to be clear,” he starts, “you're still in love with me? Like right now. In love with me.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “One of the reasons I didn't come today.”

“I thought that was because you didn't like- oh.” Realization falls across his face. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“So, you're still in love with me?”

“Harold,” Louis breathes. He could probably say it a thousand times and Harry still wouldn't believe it. He only has one other option and he's not entirely sure if that's appropriate given the circumstances, but he's going with it anyway. He sits up and his knees and scoots closer to Harry, who's watching him with curious eyes. He slowly brings his hands up to cup Harry's face and this is one of the most nerve wracking things he's ever done. “I'm in love with you,” he whispers, before closing the gap between them.

It's a quick kiss, but it's fucking fantastic once Harry breaks out of his shock and kisses back. When they break apart Louis pulls back enough so he can look into Harry's eyes. “I've been wanting to do that for a long time,” he confesses.

“Me too.” Harry sounds breathless and his pupils are wide and Louis knows where this could go, but he just doesn't feel comfortable with it given the circumstances.

As Harry leans in to kiss him again, Louis pulls back. Harry looks confused and hurt. “Look, Haz,” he starts, not sure what to say. “I love you. A hundred percent. And I'd love to have everything with you, but,” he pauses, watching the hurt leave Harry's eyes. “But I don't think given the circumstances that this would be okay. Like, Jesus. You were supposed to get married today.”

“But I didn't,” Harry huffs out. “I love you, Louis.”

“As much as I'd love to believe that – hold on. Let me finish,” he says, as Harry starts to protest. “As much as I'd love to believe that, look at what happened today. You ran out on your wedding.”

“Because I said your name.”

“Yes, but there's things you have to do. And how do I know you're still going to feel the same tomorrow?”

“You shouldn't fucking doubt me,” Harry responds, clearly offended.

“I know that and I don't. Not really. But, believe me, if you were me you'd feel the same.” Harry calms at that, allowing himself to sink back into the cushions. “I think tomorrow you should find Roger and talk to him,” he continues. “And then we'll go from there.”

“Talk to Roger,” Harry repeats. “I should definitely do that. I don't want to.”

“I can imagine.” 

Instead of saying anything Harry yawns. “I'm so fucking exhausted.”

“I can imagine,” he repeats. “Maybe you should sleep,” he suggests.

Harry shakes his head. “Don't want to.” Louis stares at him, eyebrow raised. “Okay. Yeah, I do.”

“That's what I thought.”

“Will you stay with me?” Harry asks. “I promise I won't try anything.”

Louis laughs. “Didn't think you would.”

“Is that a yes?” He asks, voice full of hope.

“It's a yes,” Louis answers, smiling.

“Good.”

*

The morning could have gone better. It also could have gone worse, which he supposes is a good thing. He'd woken up to Harry wrapped around him and the overwhelming need to piss. He didn't get up for several reasons. Harry's grip was so tight he could barely move. But it was mainly his fear of Harry waking up to Louis being gone and panicking that caused him to stay. It was an hour later before Harry woke up. Needless to say, Louis almost pissed himself.

The lads were no where to be found, which was nice because he hadn't felt like explaining anything to them and he knows Harry didn't want to talk. He had work today. Leaving Harry was difficult, but something he had to do, but he only left once Harry promised he'd talk to Roger. There were no kisses, no “I love you”'s. He kind of expected that, but it still stung a little, but Harry had things he needed to take care of and Louis didn't want to take the chance of alienating him some how.

He was useless at work. All he could think about was Harry. What he was doing. How he was doing. His entire mind was consumed by thoughts of Harry. Even the texts he received from the lads were about Harry. Asking what happened yesterday. Louis had answered with a 'talk later'.

He's standing in the hall outside of Liam and Harry's. He's been standing there for three minutes. He doesn't know if Harry is there and if he is what he's going to say. He's almost decided to leave when the door opens revealing Niall.

“How long you going to stand out here, mate?”

Louis blinks. “I'm coming in now,” he says before shoving past him. 

“Harry's not here,” Liam says, never looking up from his phone.

Louis doesn't say anything. He just sits at the kitchen table across from Zayn.

“What happened last night?” he asks.

“Have you all talked to Harry?” he asks, ignoring Zayn.

Zayn shakes his head.

“I saw him very briefly before he left,” Liam answers. “Said he was going to talk to Roger.”

“Good,” he nods.

“Good?” Niall drops into the seat next to him. “I thought the only good thing would be the two of you breaking the bed.”

He kicks Niall in the shin. “How long ago was that?” 

“Three hours, I think.”

“What happened?” Zayn asks again.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Liam asks, getting up from the armchair.

“Nothing,” he repeats.

“But you talked?” Zayn asks.

“Yes.” He's not trying to be a dick, but he doesn't know how much is okay to tell them. This is partly Harry's story to tell.

“He's gone to talk to Roger, though?” Niall questions.

“Yes. I think that's appropriate since he ran out on him yesterday,” he replies.

“You've not fallen apart,” Zayn points out, absentmindedly tracing patterns on the table with his finger.

“No.”

“So, it can't have been bad.”

“No.”

“You're being cryptic.”

“Big word for you, Niall.”

It's Niall's turn to kick him.

“What the fuck happened, Louis,” Liam orders.

Sighing, Louis decides he should tell them a little so they don't tie him up by his toes. “We talked. Harry was never completely in love with Roger.” Niall snorts. “I slept here last night. Before you throw a party Niall, it literally was sleeping,” he adds after Niall punches the air. 

“He's in love with you,” Zayn says.

“That's what he said.”

“You don't believe that?”

“I think,” he pauses to take a breath. “I think he is, but he went through a big thing yesterday. I just wanted to make sure his feelings weren't clouded.”

“Clouded?” Liam asks, quirking an eyebrow. “His feelings aren't clouded. He said your name.”

“I know,” Louis sighs. “But also, he owes Roger an explanation. I can't imagine how he's feeling.”

“You care about how Roger's feeling?” Zayn asks, skeptically.

Louis shrugs. “He's not that bad.”

“You say that now, but yesterday you wanted him to fall into a fiery pit.”

He shrugs again. “I changed my mind.”

“You're not afraid he's going to talk to Roger and decide to stay with him?” Niall asks.

“I wasn't until you said that.”

Before they can ask him another question the door is opening and Harry is walking in. They sit in silence as he walks through the flat going straight into his bedroom. Louis never saw Harry's face and it was hard to tell how he was through his demeanor.

Leaning toward him, Niall whispers, “You should go check on him.”

“If he's not out in ten minutes,” he whispers back. Harry doesn't want to talk. That's obvious. When he's ready, he'll come out.

Almost immediately Harry walks out and throws himself down into the armchair. He doesn't say anything, though, and they all exchange looks before Liam walks over to him.

“You alright, Harry?”

He doesn't answer. Zayn, Niall, and himself get up and stand with Liam, surrounding Harry.

“Harry?” Liam asks, tentatively.

He looks up and blinks, not making eye contact. “Roger's mum is demanding I pay Roger's half of the wedding,” he says.

“What in the world for?” Liam asks.

“Emotional stress and damage,” Harry answers. “Bailing at the last minute, breaking her son's heart.” Zayn snorts. “She's got a point.”

“Would she have rather you go along with the wedding and then fuck Louis in the future,” Niall says.

Louis chokes on air and glares at Niall, who's giving him a satisfied smirk.

Harry shakes his head. “I understand where she's coming from.” And that basically confirms everything to them.

“What about Roger?” he asks.

Harry looks up at him and seems to notice he's there for the first time. “Louis,” he breathes out, face brightening. 

“Told you I'd be here,” he responds, small smile on his face.

“Roger says I don't have to,” Harry says.

“That's not what I meant, but good to know.”

Harry's lips quirk slightly. “He's upset, obviously, but I explained everything to him.”

“Everything?”

He nods. “Yeah. I mean, he's not going to be sending me Christmas gifts or anything anytime soon, but I think he understands.”

“I don't,” Liam mutters, before dropping slowly to sit on the floor at Harry's feet.

“Don't try to,” Harry mutters back.

“Does this mean you're going to be fucking Louis then?” Niall asks, unabashedly. 

Louis tilts his head and glares at Niall. When he looks back at Harry he's got a smile playing at his lips. 

“Does it?” Zayn asks.

“If he'll let me,” Harry says, making eye contact with him. There's a question in his eyes. He's pretty sure Harry is asking if everything they said last night, holds true.

“I don't know, Curly,” he says. “You tried to marry another man.” He's completely joking and that should be evident with his smile, but Zayn, Niall and Liam all gasp and stare at him like he's mad. Harry smiles, but doesn't say anything.

“What the fuck, Louis?” Niall says, coming to stand directly in front of him.

“I'm really fucking tired of hearing you complain about how in love with Harry you are,” Liam says. “And now that Harry's feelings for you are known you're just going to what? Not be with him?”

“I was fucking joking,” Louis says forcefully.

“Wait,” Harry says, turning his attention to Liam. “You knew?”

Liam squirms. “Well, we all did.”

Harr'ys eyes narrow. “And none of you told me?”

“Well, to be fair,” Liam starts, “None of us were completely sure you felt the same. Not to mention I found out after Zayn and Niall.”

“Yeah, mate,” Zayn says. “Honestly we thought you two would have sorted it out by now.”

“Not really our place to get involved,” Niall agrees.

“Fuckers,” Harry mumbles, standing. He takes two steps to stand in front of Louis. “I'd really like to do this without an audience, but I don't think they're going to leave soon.” Louis takes a second to glance at them. They're not even trying to hide how intently they're paying attention. “But,” Harry continues, “would you go on a date with me?”

Louis hums, waiting a few seconds before answering. “I'd love to.” Harry beams at him.

“Fucking finally,” he hears Niall say.

*

**A year later**

It was weird at first. They had to learn how to be friends again. That part was easy, but they had to learn how to be friends that were also in love with each other and dating. It took a while for things not to be weird, but they eventually got it being normal.

And now he's moving in with Harry. He was fine with living with Harry _and_ Liam – it wouldn't be that much different considering they're all at each other's places anyway – but Liam insisted on moving out to give them more privacy. It's a nice sentiment, but Louis was kind of hoping he could slowly move all his stuff across the hall. Now he has to do it all at once to make Liam fucking happy since he decided to move in with Niall.

Speaking of Niall, he was supposed to be back a long time ago to help Louis move more boxes. Louis stands from where he was sitting in the middle of his floor. After searching for the smallest box he walks through the flat and into the hall. And what?

He can hear Liam and Harry yelling? At each other it sounds like. He fumbles to open the door, but once he does he sees Liam and Harry standing on either side of the couch yelling and Niall is standing in the middle of them holding his ears.

He sits the box on the table and walks further into the flat. They haven't noticed him and he's only able to make out half of what they're saying because they're yelling at the same time.

“You're too fucking loud.”

“You're cooking is sub-par.”

“Well, you're sub-par!” Harry yells back and Louis takes this as his cue to step in. Harry can't revert to using that as an arguing tactic.

“Whoa! Whoa! Lads,” he says, going to stand between them with Niall. “What the hell is going on?”

Niall slowly lowers his hands from his ears. “They're fighting,” he says.

“I can see that, Niall.”

“Liam's an arse,” Harry says, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Me?” Liam's voice is full of disbelief. “I'm an arse? What about you?”

“Okay!” Louis yells. Quieter he asks, “Harry what happened?”

“Ask him,” he says.

“Liam?” he asks, turning to him. Liam just shakes his head. “Niall?”

Niall sighs. “When I got here they were both on the verge of tears,” he starts, “because they lived together for so long and all that shit. I suggested they make a list of all the things they won't miss about each other to make it easier. It didn't go according to plan.”

“I can see that,” Louis points out. “The two of you need to make up.”

They say “No” and cross their arms.

Louis sighs. “Harry, apologize to Liam.”

“No.”

“Harry.”

“He said he didn't like my headscarves, Lou,” Harry pouts.

“Liam, apologize to Harry.”

“No.”

“Fine,” he huffs. Turning to Niall, he says, “This is your fault. Fix it. I'm going to pack more boxes.” And then he walks out.

*

“Need help,” Niall asks, walking into his room, right after the box he picked up exploded sending clothes flying all over the floor.

“Does it look like it?” Niall grabs an empty box and bends over to start repacking the clothes. “Did Liam and Harry get sorted out?”

“Crying like babies,” Niall responds.

“Good.”

*

Once all of Louis's stuff has been moved into Harry's apartment, he's standing with Niall in his old home. It's weird. He's lived here for almost ten years and now he's not. Just like that. He's getting a bit emotional. It's probably because he made fun of Liam and Harry for an hour earlier.

“Well,” he says, walking to the door. “I guess this is good-bye.”

“Don't say that,” Niall says, standing by the sofa and looking close to tears. “You're just moving across the hall.”

“Yeah,” he sighs. This is harder than he though it was going to be.

“I'm still gonna miss you, though,” Niall says, running a hand through his hair.

Do not cry, he reminds himself. “Uh, Niall?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we, uh, hug it out?” he asks, ducking his head.

“Fucking yes.” And then Niall is closing the distance between them and wrapping him in a hug. “I'm going to miss all your complaining.”

Louis doesn't have it in him to be mad over that right now. “I'll still come to you to complain, though. I'm just across the hall.” He says it not only to remind Niall but to remind himself as well.

Niall gives him a squeeze before pulling back. “Go,” he says. “Before I start weeping.”

Louis chuckles. “See you tomorrow for breakfast.”

Niall nods and he walks out the door, across the hall and into his new home. When he enters, Harry looks up from the book he's reading. 

“Did you cry?”

“Maybe,” he sniffs.

“Liam's just finishing up.”

“Yeah.”

He walks over and joins Harry on the sofa. Harry sets his book aside and allows him to curl into his side.

“It's weird,” he mumbles into Harry's chest. “When I come home from work I'll be coming home to you, instead of a drunk Irishman.”

Louis feels Harry's muscles move when he laughs. “Niall isn't always drunk,” he points out. “Besides, he always comes here to eat.”

Before he can answer, Liam comes in holding a box. 

“Oh, hey Louis.”

“Hey.”

“So, uh, this is the last of it,” Liam says, slightly lifting the box. “Guess I'll be going.”

“See ya,” Louis mutters.

“You're going to be here for breakfast, right?” Harry asks.

“'Course. It's Saturday.”

Him and Harry say good-bye about five more times before Liam finally leaves. When the door shuts behind him Harry gives a contented sigh.

“We're alone,” he says. “Completely alone.”

“Yes we are, Harry. Nice observation,” he responds, dryly.

“I was just going to say, that if you aren't still upset over leaving Niall I've got an idea of what we can do now that we're alone.”

Louis sits up quickly and blinks at Harry. “I'll lock the door,” he rushes out as he runs to the door.

*

**Seven months later**

“I'm getting married today,” he yells, running out of Liam's bedroom.

Niall jumps and spins around wide eyed. “Yes, you are.”

“Yes I am.” And then he runs into the bathroom to take a shower.

*

Niall is acting fucking weird. He's acting weird for Niall and that's the only reason Louis hasn't killed him yet. He's getting married today. To Harry. He does not have time to listen to Niall complain about being alone forever. Except he does. Because Niall has never once mentioned that the fact that he's almost always single bothers him. Louis kind of always thought it did, but Niall is actually voicing it.

“And, it's like,” Niall is saying when the door flies open to reveal Zayn.

“We found hi-it!” he exclaims, out of breathe.

“Found what?” Louis asks, brow furrow. What the hell did they lose and how would it have fucked up today?

“Harry's tie,” Zayn answers, after a rather lengthy pause. “We lost it, but we've got it back now. We'll have to keep an eye on it, so it doesn't disappear again, but you know. It's all good now.”

Louis slowly. “Right.” Turning to Niall, he asks, “You gonna be okay? I don't mean to leave you in your time of need, but I really have to start getting ready.”

“Yup. I'm great,” Niall says with a smile. “Go get ready.”

Louis slowly gets up from the table, giving Niall a questioning look. He's got to be drunk already, he thinks, while walking into Liam's room.

*

He can't believe it. “I can't believe it.”

“Believe what?” Harry asks, looking down at him.

“That we're married,” he replies. “We just caused ourselves so much shit and we've finally done it.”

Harry wraps his arms around his waist, while humming. “What are the chances of us getting out of here?” he asks.

“Our mothers are here,” he states. “I doubt we can sneak past them.”

“We could fake an emergency?” he suggests.

Louis raises an eyebrow. “During our reception?”

Harry doesn't get a chance to answer because Liam, Niall and Zayn walk over.

“I honestly thought this day would never come,” Niall says.

Harry lets go of Louis so he can turn to face them, but he keeps an armed wrapped around his waist. “Thanks for the confidence in us,” he says.

“Hey, I was confident five years ago, thank you.” Niall takes a drink of his champagne. “You all took longer than I expected, is all.”

“Well, I always thought you all would end up together,” Liam says. “Although, I doubted it a bit this morning.”

Harry tenses up beside him, but he doesn't respond. 

“What do you mean?” Louis asks.

“When Zayn told me Harry had runoff I thought that was the end of it,” he explains.

Louis is vaguely aware of Zayn face palming and Niall hitting Liam across the back of the head. He turns to Harry. This certainly explains Niall's odd behavior this morning.

“You ran off?” he asks, in disbelief. “And don't lie.”

Harry ducks his head. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“I just,” he starts, but stops himself. He turns to the others. “Could you all maybe give us some privacy?”

They don't say anything as they quickly walk off.

Harry turns back to him. “I panicked. Not because I didn't want to marry you,” he adds quickly when Louis opens his mouth. “But because I was scared. I fucked up the first wedding I was supposed to have. I was scared that I'd fuck this up to.”

“Doesn't that mean you weren't sure if you really wanted to marry me?” he asks, calmly. It's really a testament to how much he loves Harry that he can be this calm right now. He deserves some sort of award.

Harry shakes his head. “No. I knew I did. I was just afraid that something would happen. I dunno. I think I got a bit too much in my head.” He pauses and grabs Louis's hand, intertwining their fingers. “But when I saw you out there for the first time I knew that what I was doing was right. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Louis will not cry again. He refuses to. He's already cried a total of five times, which is five times more than he wanted to. “Haz, you could've talked to me.”

“Liam wouldn't let me out.”

“How you run off then?”

“Liam had to use the toilet at some point.”

“Ah, I see.”

“I'm sorry I ran,” Harry says.

“Don't be,” he replies. “You were here on time. And you said the right name.”

Harry tries to glare at him, but he breaks out into a smile. “Prick.”

“I do have one of those, yes, Harold,” he says, a twinge of amusement coming through his voice.

Harry narrows his eyes. “Yes, and the sooner we get out of here, the sooner we can do things with it.”

“You're insufferable,” Louis sighs. Harry pouts. “Fine. If you can find a way to get us out of here without one of ours mum's stopping us, I'll go.”

Harry grins. “I've got the perfect thing.” He drops Louis's hands. “I'll be back. Stay here.”

He runs off. Louis doesn't bother trying to see what he's doing. Harry's ideas don't usually work. Suddenly there's screaming and yelling. He whips around and sees Harry jogging toward him, a huge smile plastered on his face.

“Come on,” he says, grabbing Louis's hand to pull him toward the exit.

“What'd you do?” He asks.

“Pushed Niall into the cake,” Harry answers.

“You what?”

“Pushed Niall into the cake,” he says again.

“Why the fuck would you do that?”

“Sex, Louis. Sex,” Harry points out, pushing the door to the parking garage open.

“Fine, but we're never going to hear the end of that,” he says.

“Will you hurry up?” Harry asks, looking over his shoulder. “We need to get all the sex in before our flight.”

Louis stops. He drops Harry's hand and stops. It takes Harry a second to realize before he's tuning around, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Why'd you stop?”

“Our flight is in the morning,” he answers, slowly. “We have plenty of time, Harry.”

“Not if we don't get in the car now,” Harry reasons. “I've got a lot planned.”

“Do you?”

“Yes,” Harry says quickly. “Now get in the damn car.”

“I dunno, Harry. I think I want to go back in there. Maybe dance some more.”

“You're an arse,” Harry grunts.

“Maybe, but-.”

“Harry I'm going to fucking kill you!”

Louis spins around to see a cake covered, furious Niall holding the door open.

Louis lunges forward, grabbing Harry's hand. “Run.”


End file.
